


Ravenous

by nu_ll



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Fluff, M/M, Oral Sex, and dining with rats, in that order, there's a little bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 04:08:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14824970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nu_ll/pseuds/nu_ll
Summary: After being freed from the Void, the Outsider remains as curious as ever, only this time, his interest is piqued by the old tradition of eating another person.





	Ravenous

Freedom from the Void, freedom from the darkness of other's hearts, freedom from the chains and shackles that bound him to the pedestal of godhood. No longer must he look at the world and see how horrific the human race truly was. No longer must he entertain people with his presence, even though they still worshiped the image he left behind.

For the first time in over four millennia, the Outsider was free and it tasted bittersweet.

In the last six months, he crawled his way back to Dunwall Tower with the help of Billie Lurk, and was left to contend with his new life. Empress Emily Kaldwin greeted him with a generous amount of hospitality, meanwhile Lord Protector Corvo Attano remained indifferent, but he caught the slight smile that graced his tired face when he stepped through the front doors.

They gave him a home; they gave him a chance; they gave him a _life_. Something he never had previously.

And so for the next six months, the Outsider tried adapting to the world.

It was hard seeing it through clear eyes - no longer did he know what people were feeling or thinking. He was able to live free with a clear mind. It was like a breath of fresh air.

However, the freer his mind became from the thoughts and feelings of others, the more clouded it started to become with his own. It had been so long since he heard his own voice - it almost left him feeling empty.

But the emptiness was a sight better than existing in the endless cold of the Void and seeing everything. He had felt absolutely nothing for the people below, save for a few rare individuals, and nothing for himself. At least now, when he walked among people, he could ignore the emptiness entirely. It was hard to adjust, however, and he wasn't always proponent to these too real feelings that kept trying to creep in.

Normally he was able to put these feelings aside, partly because he was wrapped up in something else that was far more intriguing (trying jellied blood ox tongue for the first time was an interesting experience, one he would prefer not to have again. How Emily Kaldwin could stand it was beyond him. Must get it from her father.) But when he wandered the streets of Dunwall on his own, usually late at night, he couldn't prevent his mind from wandering towards dark thoughts.

At first they were nothing but _what ifs._ But then the more he thought them, the more pronounced they became. They went from _what if_ to _why nots._ Why not indulge? Why not try something abhorrent? The Outsider was a man of insatiable curiosity and seeing generations of people try the flesh of another always sparked that flare of interest. He could understand it from a survivalist perspective, and even from a religious point of view, but what compelled people to do it for no other reason other than they just wanted to?

The Outsider continued to play with these ideas as he drifted through the streets. The scars of the rat plague and Delilah's influence were long gone by now, but every so often he caught a glimpse of an old bone fragment or a piece of one of his shrines. Even to this day, people still worshipped him but he found that his followers were starting to die out, along with the magic of the Void. Maybe they knew? Maybe they figured out that he was no longer the essence of magic itself?

He let out a small sigh, half glad that they were stopping but half missing the familiarity of it all. He knew that time was the only way to heal these sorts of wounds and scars, and he would grow accustomed to living in a world as a normal human, but he couldn't help but wish he could crawl back into the depths of the Void, if only to have the comfort of knowledge on his side.

He stopped at an alleyway, hearing the sounds of a brawl breaking out. Knowing to keep his nose out of their business, he stood off to the side and waited for the inevitable footfalls of hurried feet leading a small band of Hatters out from the dark alley. He watched them, unmoving, as they laughed and clapped each other on their backs before moving from his spot.

He walked with a sort of grace, silently making his way to the end of the alley, finding the source of the Hatter's amusement. Some poor bloke apparently got on their bad side and paid the ultimate price with his life. He lay there, blood oozing out in a dark, sticky pool around him as he gazed up through glazed eyes at the starry night.

The Outsider casually nudged him with his boot, double checking that he was dead. He glanced over his shoulder, and crouched down on his haunches so he could get a better look. He was used to seeing dead bodies - having seen generations kill generations, entire communities being wiped out, but it had been so long since he saw a dead body up close like this and his curiosity was back in full force.

He reached a pale hand out and rolled the man over onto his back. When he pulled his fingers away, they were sticky from blood. He stared at it for a long while, something tugging at him and his heart beginning to race. He knew what death _looked_ like... But how did it taste?

The Outsider did another quick look around his surroundings, making sure to check the rooftops in case a certain Lord Protector was out looking for him, before putting his fingers to his lips. The tip of his tongue poked out, dragging across the blood and he recoiled at the taste. It was much more bitter than he expected, very earthy too. But it wouldn't be that terrible, he figured, if he got used to it. He went in for seconds, then thirds.

But he couldn't indulge too much, as there were footsteps behind him. He stood up and turned to the alley opening and came face to face with none other than the City Guard. They were, for a lack of better word, idiots. That much the Outsider had noticed, even when the Void was his primary haunt.

'Oi,' one said, stepping forward. 'The fuck are ye doin'?'

The Outsider just stared at them, unsure of what to do. He was used to people cursing him, but he also had the veil of the Void standing between him and whoever wanted him dead. And even then, somebody found a way around that.

The closest guard glanced down at the body, then at the Outsider and quickly drew his blade, his chums following suit. 'By the Outsider...'

'Oh, well that's ironic...' The Outsider muttered, taking a step back, the heel of his boot colliding with the dead body. It was only then that it dawned on him that people didn't recognize him. Sure, he rarely showed his face, but he was sure somebody would have said _something_ about his appearance. Anton Sokolov captured his image on more than one occasion, for starters.

Either that, or these guards were _really_ that stupid.

There was a huge obstacle in his current predicament: the Outsider was not a fighter. He never needed to learn, since he was immortal and didn't normally dwell in the waking world. Now that he was human, he realized that _maybe_ he should have learned, and decided to make a mental note to ask Corvo if he could show him how to wield a sword. For defense purposes, of course.

Lucky for him, he was right about one thing: Corvo _was_ on the hunt for him and he didn't need magic to scare the guards off by his very sudden appearance when he jumped down from one of the awnings. Standing between the guards and the Outsider, he drew his blade.

'Stand down,' he grunted, but his words held authority.

The guards gestured to the Outsider behind him, 'But sir--'

'Do not make me repeat myself. He is under protection of Dunwall Tower.'

The guards looked at each other, sliding their swords back into their sheaths. One by one they stalked off, throwing glares at the Outsider over their shoulders.

Corvo rounded on the Outsider, sheathing his sword. 'What happened?' he asked, his tone softening but only just.

The Outsider gestured to the body behind him, 'The Hatters decided to have some fun. I was curious, so I went to look, but then the guards showed up.'

'You didn't kill him?'

'I did not.'

'Are you lying to me?'

'I have no reason to lie to you.'

Corvo watched him carefully until he decided that he believed him. 'What did you do? Kiss his corpse?' he asked, slight humour in his words, and reached a hand out. He pressed his thumb to the corner of his mouth and wiped away some blood.

The Outsider let him, not batting an eye when he was touched. 'I got curious,' he repeated, and left it at that.

Corvo led him out of the alley, watching him from the corner of his eye. He knew it was going to be weird having the Outsider living in Dunwall Tower, but he wasn't expecting anything quite like this.

**

Over the next few days, the Outsider snuck out of Dunwall Tower and explored the streets every chance he got. He knew Corvo and Emily couldn't technically keep him prisoner, since he wasn't one, but he knew that both were hesitant to let him go, especially after the last stunt. Did he think they were being protective? Not really. Maybe they were just worried something could happen to either him or their image or people would get the wrong idea.

He _needed_ to get out and wander the streets, however, so he could get used to seeing the world through his human eyes once more. He _needed_ to see how people worked up close and not from another dimension. People in the flesh on a stage versus a collection of silvergraphs. More importantly, he needed to satisfy the ravenous curiosity for more blood.

He made his way through the streets, silently walking along in the shadows, keeping an eye and ear out for any noise around him. Unlike last time, he came prepared - he had a knife hidden on him. Sure, he wasn't entirely sure about how to wield it properly, but at least if he needed to, he knew how to _stab_.

But how was he going to find a body? The Outsider played with the idea, wondering what he was going to have to do. He could find a morgue, but the bodies would already be decaying. He could wait until somebody died, but they might die from a disease or an illness and he wasn't about to cut his own life so short, now that he got it back again. No, the only logical choice for him was to kill somebody. They would be fresh, the body still warm, and hopefully not plagued by diseases. Even though the rat plague had finally left the city, it didn't mean there weren't other illnesses that could shorten one's lifespan.

Scouting the streets, memorizing the patterns of the guards, he continued to search. If he killed somebody important, it would be all over the place in a matter of hours. If he killed one of the gang members, it would be a matter of days until they found out he did it and eventually come after him. His only option was a beggar, somebody nobody would care about in the end. Another street urchin wiped from the streets.

As he hunted, he made notes of the different lives people led once the sun went down. There were men and women advertising a good time on the street corners, tempting guards and Hatters alike into their love dens. There were shady folk who were dealing who knows what, beckoning people closer to look at their wares. _The cheapest prices in all of Gristol._  He was sure he even heard a few people mention whale bone runes and charms, most likely still bearing his name.

He turned down an alley, keeping his gait casual and even, less he wanted to attract attention. He knew the homeless favoured streets that were engulfed in shadows and off the beaten path - the less visible they were, the less they were disturbed. They created dens and makeshift beds under debris and stairs, hiding from the world and living our their lives with the rats. A familiar scene from so long ago, that was nothing but a memory of a past life. He didn't feel pity for them - he understood.

There was an old man wandering around on his own, head bowed, hands clasped together and faint muttering ushering from his lips. As he walked, he would jerk his head up, let out a grunt or a hoarse cough before dropping it back down and shuffling across the cobble. He was slow, taking careful steps and avoiding any rats that may be on the streets.

Aside from the old man, there was nobody else around. A perfect target for an easy kill. The Outsider made his way closer, falling behind a short distance away, but close enough that he could easily grab him if needed. The man didn't pay any attention - he was too transfixed on talking to himself to notice anyone in his vicinity.

They turned into an alcove, the Outsider stopping to bar the entry way as the man huddled around a dim fire pit. When he looked up, he nearly jumped out of his skin when he noticed the Outsider standing in the doorway.

'Boy, you gave me an awful nasty fright, you--' his face fell as he recognized him. 'You-You're…'

The Outsider opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off when the man threw himself down at his feet. He scanned the streets, praying nobody was coming down the alley, especially since the man was reaching for his boots, presumably to kiss them.

'Praise the Void…' the man whimpered, holding his hands out towards the Outsider. He showed him the back of his hand, where a crude drawing of his mark was roughly etched into his skin. 'I have waited my days for you to grace me with your presence…'

It left the Outsider feeling uneasy, seeing such a devout follower. It surprised him that he wasn’t even wearing one of the Eyeless' scarves around his eyes.

'I am not here to grant you my mark,' he said flatly, taking a small step back from the man, who in turn looked devastated at the news.

'B-But then why are you here?' the man cried, clawing his way up, grabbing onto the front of the Outsider's coat.

'L-Listen, old man,' the Outsider grabbed his wrists, prying his hands away from him. His heart raced - he didn't expect somebody to recognize him, since so many people didn't.

As the man gazed up at him, it dawned on him that something was amiss. 'Your eyes…' the man started. 'They're not bl--' but he couldn't get the words out, as a knife had just plunged itself into his heart. He crumpled and fell in a heap.

The Outsider let out a shaky breath and knelt down next to him. 'Forgive me,' he said softly, closing the man's eyes as he pulled the knife out.

Now that he had the dead body, he was unsure of what to do. Part of him wanted to take it somewhere safe so he could spend time figuring out how he wanted to satisfy his craving of flesh and blood, but another part of him knew he didn't have time. The streets may be barren now, but that wouldn't last for long. He was going to have to act fast if he wanted to do this.

He leaned over, and used the blade of the knife to draw a thin line across the man's throat, letting the blood pool out and run down his neck. He buried his mouth against the cut, tongue lapping up the blood, not paying any mind of how _filthy_ this man could possibly be. He didn't have the time to worry about it. He would just have a hot bath later.

When the blood wasn't satisfying his needs, he pushed the man onto his back and cut open his tattered shirt, revealing the mottled and unpleasant skin of his chest. He carved out a long, thin sliver of flesh and stared at it, blood dripping from his fingers. If he had the time, he would try cooking it over a flame, but since he didn't, he stuffed the piece into his mouth.

The texture was not what he was expecting. It was chewy, almost tough but not too difficult to eat. More especially, it tasted _wonderful._ So good, in fact, that he ate more. Two slices, three slices, five slices later. All sliced thinly down the man's body, leaving a gaping wound of viscera. Even the rats decided to join, not shying away from the being who had a hold on them for so long.

The Outsider cut off small bits of meat and tossed them in their direction. They ate it up hungrily, almost as hungrily as he did. They squeaked and chirped in excitement and glee, running over his lap and resting on his shoulders as he carved up more of their late night snack.

But soon, he grew full, and let the rats pick the bones as he made his way back to the Tower. He pocketed the knife once again and wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve. Nothing had tasted so good in his four thousand years of existence. Nothing tasted so _right_. If only the Eyeless could see their god now.

**

The Outsider went out a few more times after that, picking days where he was sure Corvo and Emily were busy in the Tower. Soon, word got out that a new killer was on the loose - somebody they called the _Dunwall Carver_. It wasn't the most clever of names, but it instilled fear among the people. He never intended for it to become a thing, but it was never too late to have a show.

Emily was on edge due to the influx of letters she was receiving. Most of them were false claims of spotting the _Carver_ , others were just angry letters demanding something be done. She was snappish to people, instantly apologized then would bury her face in her hands. She didn't expect something like this to happen again, what with Delilah finally out of the picture (hopefully) once and for all.

Corvo, on the other hand, had grown suspicious. He didn't say anything at first, but on more than one occasion, he caught the Outsider with a little bit of blood on his sleeve, or trying to sneak out through a window if the entrances were guarded.

One evening, he cornered him in an empty hall. The Outsider was just about to leave when the Lord Protector grabbed him by the arm and pulled him aside.

'Going out again?' the man asked in his gruff, Karnacian voice.

The Outsider stared at him, 'I _am_ allowed to leave. I refuse to be a prisoner ever again, even here.'

'I never said you were a prisoner. You just go out an awful lot,' Corvo said, letting go of his arm.

'There isn't much to do in Dunwall Tower,' the Outsider said simply. 'I am merely trying to get used to being a human again. It's… proving to be difficult but I think I'm managing.'

Corvo eyed him carefully, not falling for his bluff this time. 'You're not doing anything _illegal_ out there, are you?'

The corner of the Outsider's mouth twitched in the faintest smile. He placed a hand on Corvo's cheek, and whispered, 'Would you stop me if I was?'

Corvo gently pushed his hand away, a slight sneer gracing his features. 'Remember, you are no longer a god. You don't have control over anything anymore,' he reminded. 'If I catch you, I will stop you.'

'After everything I've done for you?' the Outsider challenged.

'I never asked for your gift.'

'But you didn't reject it. In fact, you relied on it.'

Corvo sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. 'I cannot turn a blind eye and stand up for you every time you get in trouble, you know.'

'Then for this one thing, I ask that you do,' the Outsider said in a whisper turned on his heel and walking away.

Corvo watched his receding form and glanced around, hoping no guard or Emily heard. Unsure of what to do, he took a few steps after him, but decided against it. No, he wasn't going to interfere. Billie had wrote him a letter explaining what happened, how he came out of the Void. He deserved freedom, and besides - Corvo let men who had done worse go.

The Outsider left the Tower for another night of hunting. He was having difficulties finding people to eat - maybe the homeless who wandered the streets were keeping in touch with each other, warning them of his presence because surely he couldn't have killed them all. There were plenty living on the streets and he only killed a handful.

He wandered down to the docks, where the salty air greeted him like an old friend. The water gently crashed against the sides in a lulled rhythm. He stood on the edge of the pier, shut his eyes and took in the night air. The sea always brought him comfort - even when he was a boy. He used to love sitting on the pier at night - nobody was around to bother you and the whales kept him company with their sad songs.

He opened his eyes, shocked that there was a tear rolling down his cheek. He wiped it away with his fingertips and stared hard at them in the dim light. Why was he crying? He didn't understand - he wasn't sad, but he didn’t know if he was happy or not. Emotions made no sense to him; he lost how to feel them long ago, so now that they were back, he didn't know what to do.

Footsteps echoed behind him, and he turned around to face Corvo, who watched him cautiously.

'Are you following me?' the Outsider asked, wiping his hand off on his pants.

Corvo shook his head and stood next to him, looking out at the water. 'I, too, sometimes stroll the streets of Dunwall at night. It's not the same as blinking but I don't hate it,' he said with a slight but sad smile.

'You have done enough with my gift for this city. Consider Delilah taking your powers as early retirement,' the Outsider said.

Corvo let out a bark of a laugh, 'My, my, did you just make a joke?'

The Outsider let a smile tug at his lips.

They fell into silence as they stared out at the water. It was comforting, just the two of them, enjoying each other's peace.

'A whale's coming,' the Outsider eventually said. As if on cue, a jet of water plumed from the surface. It raised its head just so its eyes peered out from the darkness and moved as close as possible to the docks. It was almost as if it recognized the Outsider, or at least sensed what he used to be. He may not have been part of the Void, but he guessed that remnants remained like an old stain that never washed out.

He crouched down, getting on his knees and reached a hand out to brush his fingers across its smooth surface. 'I must applaud Emily for finally banning mass harvesting of whales…' the Outsider said. 'Maybe their numbers will finally grow once more.'

Corvo didn't respond, just watched him. He watched how the Outsider bent lower to press his palm against the beast's skin, how a gentle smile formed on his lips - how a sadness plagued his gaze.

'Thank you, my friend,' the Outsider whispered, pulling his hand away and standing up. The whale coasted away from the dock, drifting lazily away until it was far enough to dive with a flick of its tail.

When he faced Corvo, he was surprised to see him smiling. 'What?'

Corvo shook his head, reaching out to pull him closer. 'You can still communicate with them, can't you?'

'The rats still listen to me, too,' the Outsider said gently, resting a hand on Corvo's shoulder.

'The Void's never left you, even though you left it.'

'The Void is within all of us, my dear Corvo. Some are just brave enough to seek it,' the Outsider said, hand dragging across Corvo's chest as he started to walk back down the pier, on his way to finish what he set out to do in the first place.

Corvo didn't follow him, just turned back to the water and continued to stare off into its depths, leaving the Outsider to do what he wanted to do.

**

It took a long time for the Outsider to find his next victim - he had to go to the edge of the city in order to find somebody he felt safe killing. This one was a woman, whose hair was tied up in a loose bun and her fingers frail and gnarly. Her clothes were in tatters, crudely sewn with various bits of mismatched fabric and threads. She had the face of somebody who was once beautiful, but hardships aged her too quickly.

Upon seeing her, a shard of ice dropped into the pits of his stomach. For a split moment, he thought it was his beloved old witch from so long ago.

If he hadn't seen her death by Corvo's hand, he would have sought out Vera Moray for refuge. Out of everybody he watched over in his four thousand years as a god, she was the only one who truly welcomed his presence. She gave up everything to be as close as possible to him, and while many people have tried, she was the only one who actually meant it.

It brought on a great sadness knowing his old friend was cast aside just like the rest of those who were plagued by death brought on by Dunwall. The rats, the Abbey of the Everyman, the local gangs, the reign of terror that came with Empress Jessamine's death. She was just another number in the body count. Did she even have a burial? He doubt it - Paolo found her first, and he didn't give a damn about honouring her.

The Outsider drew his knife from his pocket and tromped towards the woman, who peered up from the can of jellied eels she was trying to pry open. She didn't even get a chance to say anything as he he drove the blade straight into her throat. A gurgle of blood escaped her mouth and she collapsed. He grabbed one of her arms and dragged her off so he could feast in the private of shadows.

He didn't waste time tearing open her shirt and digging the blade into her supple flesh. The blood bubbled and oozed out of the wound when he pulled it out and he struck again, and again. Sadness and grief quickly turned to anger and he didn't know where it came from, but it drove him to keep mutilating her body.

The rats were soon on him, curiously sniffing the air and hungrily licking their lips. A few scurried to the side as he cast his knife to the ground. It clattered and skidded into a wall - a few rats took the opportunity to lick the knife clean from blood. Others crept closer to the body and began to tug and peel away chunks of flesh from the body.

The Outsider dug his hands in, not paying any mind to the blood pooling out and staining them. He pulled a large chunk of flesh off her body and stuffed it into his mouth, devouring it within seconds. The hatred he felt for the world fueled his hunger, making him crave more and more of blood and flesh. Maybe this was the result of having his emotions locked away for so long in the void - all of them came crashing down on him at once.

As he hungrily consumed the woman who _dared_ resemble his witch, he didn't hear the footsteps behind him. He didn't hear the sharp intake of breath, or take any notice to the rats scattering as somebody approached from behind.

What he did hear, however, was; 'What the fuck are you _doing?!_ '

The Outsider turned his head and stared right at the menacing form of Corvo, who watched him with a mixture of disgust and fear. He sucked back the piece of flesh that was hanging between his lips and rose to his feet. Blood smeared across his mouth and chin; his fingers were dripping and his clothes speckled with blood.

Corvo gestured to the body, 'I knew... I knew you were killing them... But _this_?'

The Outsider moved closer, taking slow, deliberate steps. His eyes never strayed from Corvo, who looked like he was trying to resist drawing his sword.

'Why?' the man finally asked, almost defeated. 'Why are you eat--' his words were cut off when the Outsider grabbed him and pulled him into a rough, hungry kiss.

For a second, he was sure Corvo was going to push him away, but was pleasantly surprised when the man pulled him in closer and kissed back with equal fervent energy. Their arms wrapped around each other as their lips worked together - holding onto one another like their lives depended on it.

Corvo was the first to pull away, breathing heavy but not letting go. He wanted to ask why: why the Outsider was doing this, why he was found eating his victim, why was he _kissing_ him but he couldn't get the words out.

The Outsider captured his lips once more, hands roaming Corvo's body. It felt like he waited a lifetime to be able to do this, having been captivated by the Lord Protector years ago, when he first gave him his mark. There was something in the way he used his gift, not for himself, but for the greater good, that appealed to his curiosity so much. It was refreshing after waiting so long for somebody to be worthy of his gift.

Corvo stopped him, hand resting on the small of his back. 'Wait,' he whispered, and gestured to the abandoned building behind them. 'Not here.'

The Outsider smiled, sly and challenging, 'Are you afraid somebody will catch us? Is your image that important to you that you can't be seen with me?'

Corvo narrowed his eyes in warning.

'Is that a yes?' The Outsider asked, leaning over to drag the tip of this tongue against the corner of Corvo's mouth.

Corvo grabbed his wrist and dragged him away from the scene. He pulled him along, not waiting for him to keep up and certainly not being gentle about it.

They walked to the nearest abandoned building, and carefully climbed between the wood boards that blocked the entrance. Corvo held up a hand and listened hard for any signs of life, and when he was confident there wasn't any, he grabbed the Outsider by the arm and slammed him face-first against the wall, pinning him against it with his body. His mouth buried itself in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent of smoke and blood.

Any words the Outsider wanted to say got caught in his throat. As strong hands roamed his body, grabbing onto his hips and pulling them flush against Corvo's, he let out breathy, needy whimpers. How demeaning it was to be reduced to _this_ after being an all powerful being for millennia.

Corvo's rough fingers slipped into the front of the Outsider's shirt, feeling the smooth skin flex under his touch. They dipped lower, tugging open the front of his pants before dipping inside, feeling the surprisingly bare skin.

'No underwear?' Corvo asked, slightly amused.

'I found out quite quickly that I hate them,' the Outsider sighed.

Corvo let out a snort of a laugh and pulled him away from the wall. 'Come on,' he grunted and led him down a hall, searching for an abandoned room.

It didn't take long - the third place they checked was empty save for some ruined furniture, but as luck would have it, a bed was tucked away in what should have been a closet. A moth-eaten duvet was haphazardly strewn over it, and a set of pillows were missing their cases. At least the bed didn’t look like it was crawling with bugs or rats. Corvo had definitely slept on worse, and he was sure the Outsider did as well.

Corvo turned to the Outsider and grabbed him by the waist, pulling him close and ravishing his mouth once more. He guided him towards the bed and they collapsed together in a heap, only breaking their kiss to take a breath, the bed groaning under their weight as they shifted and moved on it.

He pulled back from his lips, tugging and removing his coat and shirt then his fingers found the fastenings on the Outsider's shirt. He pulled it open and leaned down to plant a field of kissing on his skin but stopped mid way. His eyes roamed over his thin form, not fully realizing what happened to him until now. He traced one of the barely-there scars with his finger, earning a sharp intake of breath.

'It was a long, long time ago,' the Outsider whispered, his hands sliding up Corvo's back, enjoying the feel of his strong muscles under his hands.

Corvo tried counting the many little scars covering his skin, dreading to think of how many more he had on the rest of his body. His eyes caught the deepest looking one spread across his throat - it was the perfect place to press a tender kiss. He began to move his lips down to his collar bone, to his chest and laid out a trail of them along his body.

The Outsider squirmed under him, pressing the back of his head into the pillows as Corvo’s beard scratched him and left him shivering. Corvo’s hands grabbed onto his waist and started to run down his hips, pushing his pants down as they went, his mouth following the newly exposed skin.

The Outsider ran his hand through Corvo's hair, small whimpers slipping through. His heart hammered in his chest, and it almost felt like the first time he killed somebody - the rush of adrenaline, the wave of pleasure that came after, the excitement of tasting flesh for the first time.

Corvo lifted his head and smiled at the sight below him. It amused him to no end that he had, what was once a great being, revered by countless people and hated by more, at his _mercy_. A man who gave out the gift of magic just because he was curious about what would happen. A man who was old enough to see humanity destroy and repair itself time and time again, and he was a shaking mess all from a handful of kisses.

It made Corvo curious - how would the Outsider react if he went further than just kissing his skin? Was the Outsider so starved for attention that the smallest touch drove him up the wall? Only one way to find out, by dragging his tongue along the inside of his thigh, eliciting a gasp of surprise. It was exactly what Corvo was expecting.

His mouth moved to his cock and gave it the same treatment as the rest of his body. When the Outsider didn't react any differently, Corvo lifted his head and gazed at him.

'I want to hear your voice,' Corvo whispered, reaching a hand up to caress his throat with his fingers.

The Outsider swallowed thickly, at a loss. He didn't know _how_ to become vocal. He never had to worry about it since he only whispered in one's ear when he wanted to be heard.

Corvo dragged his hand down the Outsider’s body, venturing it further and further until his fingers rested on the base of his cock. They wrapped around it as he dropped to his knees, lips brushing the tip. He slid his mouth around the head, earning the moan he oh so wanted.

The Outsider let out a shuddering breath, eyes squeezing shut. As the moist heat from Corvo's mouth engulfed him, the harder it was to stay still. This somehow turned out to be so much better than killing or watching people use his mark. He realized that he missed out on so much being trapped in the Void.

Corvo's hands lifted the Outsider's thighs and slid them over his shoulders so he could swallow more of him. He pressed his mouth down around the base of his cock, gripping his hips and holding them still as he sucked him off. What a wonderful sound it was, hearing the Outsider’s breathy whimpers; his soft moans; the way he kept whispering under his breath. It was a reward in of itself.

Corvo slowly pulled away from his cock, letting it fall from his lips. He gave it a final lick before lowering the his legs and pushing himself up to his feet.

The Outsider was watching him through lidded eyes, wondering why he suddenly stopped. Corvo said something that might have been _I'll be right back_ but his mind was so heavy with thoughts of lust that he didn't register what it was until the man had left.

He laid there, steadying his breathing and staring off at the peeling walls of the dingy room. He thought about how he could never have achieved this if he was still trapped in the void, forever watching and never touching the man who interested him the most.

It didn't take long for Corvo to return, holding a tiny bottle in his hand. 'Tyvian Grape Oil,' he said, reading the label and setting it on the bed.

The Outsider wanted to ask what it was for, but his attention was quickly stolen by Corvo unbuttoning the front of his pants and pushing them down with his underwear. He swallowed thickly at the sight, eyes unable to leave it, even when Corvo climbed onto the bed.

Corvo pressed their lips together, grabbing one of the Outsider's legs and propping it up on his hip. He uncapped the bottle and spread some of the oil on his fingers.

'If this hurts, I can stop,' Corvo said gently, bringing his hand down between the Outsider's legs to slowly slide his finger through his entrance.

The Outsider let out a gasp, hand grabbing onto the back of Corvo's neck while the other rested on his shoulder.

Corvo pressed a kiss to his forehead and waited, letting him adjust. When he was sure he could handle it, slid in a second, earning another gasp, but this one was followed by a moan.

'Are you okay?' Corvo asked in between kissing the Outsider's forehead.

The Outsider couldn't say anything, just nodded with his eyes shut tight.

Corvo waited a few more moments before beginning to move his fingers in and out. Gentle and slow, his eyes locked on the Outsider's face for any signs of distress. The longer he moved his fingers, the more the Outsider’s faced relaxed which meant he could go further.

He pulled his fingers out and slicked up his cock, grimacing at how _cold_ it was as he lined himself up. Carefully, and even more slowly than before, he pushed his way past the tight ring of muscles. A moan slid from his throat, mimicking the Outsider's.

The Outsider dug his fingernails into the back of Corvo's neck, hips lifting for more. It didn't hurt, at least not enough for him to want to stop. In fact, he almost liked how it felt, but what made it better was Corvo's voice. It was a good distraction, listening to how breathless he was.

Corvo pushed in as far as he could, groaning weakly as they both adjusted. He looked down at the Outsider and caught him smiling. A gentle, sweet but tired smile graced his lips. He never found himself to be a romantic, especially not after losing Jessamine, but he found himself almost lost in that smile of his, and those too-green eyes. They were like lost jewels dug up from years of being buried deep under the ground. Jewels that belonged to _him._

He brushed a few strands of hair off of the Outsider's sweaty forehead, then kissed him on the lips. The Outsider returned the kiss, sliding his other arm across Corvo's back. It was enough of a cue for Corvo to start moving.

He was careful not to move too sudden, but the more he did it, the easier it became. Soon he found a steady rhythm and they began to move their hips together. Never in his wildest dreams did he ever expect to have sex with the Outsider.

The Outsider muttered something under his breath, his breathing becoming erratic and unsteady. Even his moans seemed to be a bit more desperate, and it didn't take long for Corvo to figure out why.

Corvo slid his arm under the Outsider's waist and held him close, whispering words of endearment as he continued to lazily thrust into him. It was just what was needed for the Outsider's orgasm to hit with a shuddering moan. Corvo followed soon after, burying his mouth in his neck to stifle his voice.

He pulled out, carefully climbed onto the bed next to the Outsider and pulled him close. The Outsider rolled onto his side and slid his arm across his chest, using his shoulder as a pillow.

'Are you okay?' Corvo asked, resting his hand on the small of his back and rubbed it in slow, small circles.

The Outsider nodded, eyes shutting.

Corvo watched him, running his hand up and down his spine now. A fraction of him couldn't believe he actually slept with the Outsider. And for what reason? Was he lonely? Maybe a bit. Was the Outsider lonely? Perhaps a lot - being trapped in another dimension, your physical form locked away on the very edge of the existence, four thousands of years could make anybody lonesome.

'I'll make a deal with you,' Corvo said softly. 'If you stop killing, we can do this again.'

He waited for a response, and when none came, he tilted his head to get a better look at the Outsider's sleeping face. He was surprised to see how peaceful it was. He smiled at the view, shutting his eyes and drifting off into his own sleep.

**

The Outsider didn't kill for at least three weeks. He didn't particularly feel up to going out and hunting, and it gave Emily a break from the angry letters. Almost. It went from hundreds a day to a couple of tens, which put her in a better mood. She actually graced the dining table with a smile on her face, something she hadn't done in a long time.

'What's put you in such a good mood?' Corvo asked over a cup of coffee.

'The _Dunwall Carver_ hasn't killed in a few weeks, which means I can focus on other duties,' Emily said, pouring herself some pear juice.

Corvo shot the Outsider a glance, who was staring at something just over his shoulder, while taking a bite of toast.

Emily watched the two, putting her glass down, 'Wait, do you two know something about the killer?'

'No,' they both said in union.

Emily eyed them carefully, knowing they were bullshitting her.

'Well,' she sighed, taking a sip. 'Hopefully the killer stays quiet. I'm getting a headache thinking about all the letters I have to reply to from the countless concerned citizens.'

'You could always feed them to the rats,' the Outsider said simply.

'No!' Corvo protested.

Emily considered it while nibbling on her own toast. 'That's an idea…'

'Emily, no!' Corvo protested again, but caught the smirk on both of their faces.

'Or,' the Outsider continued. 'You could ask Serkonos for some bloodfly eggs.'

'Oh, god…' Corvo groaned, burying his face in his hands. 'Just what we need… rats with wings.'

Emily grinned, enjoying this side of the Outsider very much. Ever since he became a human and started living in Dunwall Tower, he seemed to have lightened up a bit. He always had a dry sense of humour, but now it was sarcastic and genuinely entertaining.

She pushed her chair out, finished her drink and grabbed a stack of toast, 'I best be off. Billie Lurk wrote saying she was going to be making a visit in Dunwall, and she will be arriving later today. I want to try to make a dent in these letters before she gets here.' She waved both of them goodbye and walked off.

The Outsider watched her leave the turned his attention to Corvo. 'Are you going to tell her?'

'Tell her what?'

'That we had sex.'

Corvo nearly spit out his drink. 'She doesn't need to know,' he said, wiping his mouth on his napkin. 'Ever.'

The Outsider nodded, finishing his toast. He stood up, and went to leave when Corvo grabbed his hand.

'Where are you going?' Corvo's voice lacked any signs of authority that it normally held.

'For a walk. It's nice out, and I haven't left the Tower in two days,' the Outsider said while watching their hands. He went to pull away, but was tugged back. 'What?'

'Do you remember what I offered you?' Corvo asked, rubbing the back of the Outsider's hand with the pad of his thumb. 'Back in the old building?'

'Of course,' the Outsider said, and faced him. He leaned down, placing his hand to Corvo's cheek, and stared into his eyes. 'Why do you think the killings stopped? I expect my reward... Tonight.'

Corvo stared at him as his warm hand slipped away from his face as he began to walk away. He didn't know if the Outsider had heard him, but apparently he did. He wasn't sure what he got himself into, but at least he prevented something that could have gotten too out of hand, and Emily could rest easy now that the killings stopped. Besides, it wasn't too bad - Corvo didn't have to go to bed lonely anymore.


End file.
